


The Short Answer

by JeromeClarke107



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Post-Episode: s05e05 Geothermal Escapism, Pre-Season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeromeClarke107/pseuds/JeromeClarke107
Summary: Abed has slept with the same pillow since he was six years old; when Troy leaves, he finally replaces it.
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Comments: 16
Kudos: 56





	The Short Answer

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick Trobed Drabble to try and break my seemingly never-ending writer's block. 
> 
> Written for prompt list by heclgechog on Wordpress.
> 
> Prompt: Pillow
> 
> Enjoy!

Abed Nadir is a creature of habit.

He likes things when they stay the same: same toothpaste flavor, same chapstick, same bed, same couch, same coffee brand, same ice cube trays (batman shaped, to be specific), same phone number, same life.

There’s no reason, he thinks, to fix things that aren’t broken.

And then Troy leaves (almost as quickly as he’d come) and everything that wasn’t broken in his life suddenly shatters into millions of pieces.

He becomes broken glass, so cracked that he can barely recognize his own reflection anymore. Everything feels _wrong_ without Troy: without Troy, old men handcuff him to filing cabinets and make him miss his movie, Jeff turns forty and takes pills and almost dies, and they almost lose Greendale to Subway of all places.

So, Abed does what he always does: he controls what he can. And he copes.

Annie doesn’t ask about it when he shoves his old childhood pillow that he’s had since he was six into the back of the closet and exchanges it with Troy’s. It’s strange, because Annie asks about everything, but he appreciates it all the same. He doesn’t want to explain it: why after so many years, he finally replaces his pillow.

It smells like Troy, is the short answer.

The long answer is far more complex than that. If he had to put it into words, he would probably start with, “I miss him like crazy,” or “I’m lost without him,” or maybe, “I’m just so fucking _sad_.”

But Abed’s never been very good at putting things into words.

And this makes it better, somehow. It feels like he’s sleeping beside Troy again, a protective arm wrapped around him and a silent, unspoken, “I’ve got you,” between them. It feels like being held by him, like burying his face in his neck and breathing in. It feels like “I love you,” and “I love you, too,” and “I never thought you’d say it back,” and “I’ll always say it back.”

It feels like Troy.

So he makes the change, ditches the pillow he’s been clinging to since before his mom left his dad, and takes something better in its place. He breathes it in, loves it like perfect things are loved, like _Troy_ was loved. By everyone who met him, but especially by Abed.

And he still thinks about him; he thinks about him every single moment of every single day. He thinks about him always. And at night it’s a little bit better, because for a brief few moments before he drifts off to sleep, he can smell him again.

It’s as close to home as Troy’s going to get. It’s as close to Troy as Abed’s going to get.

So Abed changes his pillow, and he takes it.

. . .

Somewhere off the coast of Brazil, Troy Barnes is rustling through his duffel bag, searching desperately for something important as he gets ready for bed.

He finally finds it and pulls it out: a faded red cardigan that looks out of place on the open sea. It’s made for fall, for colder weather, but it’s all that Troy has left. He holds it against his nose for a moment and then throws it onto his cot. When he goes to lay down, he takes it in his hands and presses his face into it, breathes in.

LeVar turns out the lights in the small cabin, and speaks quietly as he lays down on the opposite side of the room, “What is that?”

“A cardigan.”

“Yeah, I can see that. But why do you sleep with it every night?”

Troy thinks for a moment before he answers.

“The short answer is, it smells like Abed.”


End file.
